


Muffled Thump

by blind_bombshell



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Inspired by Art, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Bathroom, NSFW Art, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-12 13:15:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17468273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blind_bombshell/pseuds/blind_bombshell
Summary: Hannibal has invited Will to his office to discuss his treatment plan... Will has been waylaid in Hannibal's private washroom for a very telling reason.





	Muffled Thump

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd, unplanned, originally from Tumblr. Art is by Orientalld on Twitter. Find them here: (@Orientalld): https://twitter.com/Orientalld?s=09

_Fuckfuckfuckfuck_ -

He’s so _close_.

Hannibal’s jacket and tie had been hanging on the back of the door, innocent as you like, taunting Will with their softness.

It’d taken a whole two minutes’ pondering, having discovered them there when he’d excused himself from tea (fucking _TEA_ ), before he slid the jacket on over his shoulders, not daring to put the sleeves through just in case. Just to see. Just to know what it was like to wear something that cost more than his car. That was all. And then he'd put it right back on the door. Except.

Fuck.

It SMELLED like Hannibal. And it was surprisingly HEAVY, making it all too easy for his fired-up brain to make the connections and he was getting his dick out before he even fully realized he was hard.

That innocent moment had long passed, however. Even the mildly dubious had bit the dust when, after stroking himself with his hand for a moment, the sleeve of the jacket had brushed against his length, causing the most agonizing and delightful ripple of sensation to lick up his spine.

And now, as he thrust wetly into his hand, the sodden, sumptuous fabric was making the most delicious friction against his cock. The tie that had previously been delicately dangling off the neck of the wooden hanger with the suit jacket, now entangled in his fingers and dangling from the hand he had braced against the door as he listened to Hannibal humming along to some obscure (and likely tragic) composer, not twenty feet away.

It was all too easy, his brain firing on all cylinders, until he could feel Hannibal behind him, the scent of him surrounding Will entirely, the weight of the jacket becoming Hannibal’s weight, the humming a thrum against his ear as Hannibal worked Will’s cock from behind, taking in Will’s desperate, quiet gasps and abortive thrusts as he tries desperately not to make a sound.

He wanted to cry it was so good, his fingers scraping against the grain with the best strokes as his knees wobbled and his thighs flexed avainst a body that wasn't there.

He is aware enough to know he’s been in here too long, Hannibal is going to worry soon. Maybe come looking for him. Maybe he’s already waiting outside the door with that wry, mock-disapproving look. Or an ACTUAL one, once he discovered his ruined sleeve. Maybe he’ll want to talk about Will’s sexual history, fantasies, masturbation habits.

Will grunts with frustration,  _needing_ to come but no closer to joy, the pleasure starting to edge into pain, now. God, he’s a wreck. There’s no salvaging this jacket, now. There’s no hiding what EXACTLY he had been up to in this tiny (well-appointed, of course) personal bathroom just outside of Hannibal's therapy office. 

 _This is what he gets for allowing a patient to use his private bathroom_ , Will thought wildly, chuckling under his breath, that was immediately stolen by a button against his frenulum.

A polite throat clearing, outside the door, followed by a couple perfunctory knocks that Will felt through his hand, travelling up his arm to his shoulder and neck. “I’m terribly sorry, Will, but I left my jacket on the door and there appears to be a client in the waiting room. I’m afraid the good doctor will need you to come out.”

But to Will’s distracted, lust-fueled brain, he heard “Will” … “come now” and he gasped in relief as FINALLY his release was taken from him and he felt his thighs shake, his knees locking, hand scratching against the door as his toes curled and his DNA most assuredly ruined a bespoke suit. He breathed raggedly, scarcely believing he’d done such a thing let alone how to continue.

A shuffling of feet, and Hannibal made an inquisitive sound close to a growl. “Nevermind, I’ll see them without it. Be back shortly.”

Will closed his eyes and leant his forehead against the cool grain of the door. Maybe, if he pressed hard enough, he’d become one with the wall and never have to face Hannibal or anyone else ever again.

 


End file.
